


Debunking Myths

by bluebirdling



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Muggle, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, farewell party, happy birthday lily, work party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:55:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29083482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebirdling/pseuds/bluebirdling
Summary: answer to the prompt: "where did the moon go?"
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter
Comments: 22
Kudos: 50





	Debunking Myths

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PetalsToFish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetalsToFish/gifts).



> This was meant to be a 300-word ficlet but then...things got out of hand. Thank you petals for giving such a wonderful prompt, love you babe!

She would rather be tucked away in the comfort of her bedcovers, book in hand and her dad bidding her goodnight and giving a gentle reminder to put the lights out in ten minutes before shutting the door. 

Instead, she’s in the car with her mum, driving through the suburbs to her boss’s house for a work party. 

Lily tells her mother she isn’t an employee of the company, and therefore, needn’t be in the party at all, but she shuts her with a quick glare and ushers her none-too-gently to the car. 

And now her mum has abandoned her by the food table with other _‘kids’_ who were all playing in sandboxes. 

She is _nine._

Not some sugar high kindergartener. 

And so Lily sits by on one of the plastic chairs, waiting for the god-awful day to be over when she can go back and finish her American Girl series. 

No such luck. 

It’s nearing midnight when her mother finds her half-asleep on the grass under the lights with some other children, hand in hand with her soon to be boss due to the ‘promotion’ and a bespectacled kid tagging along behind them. Lily simply assumes that she will drive them home, a ride she must have bagged in a desperate plea to butter up to whoever the lady is, standing up at her mother’s nudge and halfway to falling asleep on her feet.

She must have, because when she wakes up, she’s in the backseat of a car that is not her own and a head with a mess of dark locks grinning at her toothily. 

“The moon is following us!”

“...what?”

The woman she saw earlier looks back and smiles kindly at her from the front, “Hullo, dear. We’re just a half-hour away from reaching. Go on and get a good kip in between. Don’t let James distract you.”

“But, Mum, then she won’t be able to see the moon!”

“It follows us everywhere, James, I’m sure she can catch it another time.”

“But it only follows us! How will she see it then?”

She nearly groans out loud. 

He really can’t be _serious_. Who even believes that anymore?

Her mother shoots a smile their way, “James, go ahead and show her. I’m sure she’ll love to see it.”

James nods enthusiastically, already swivelling around and pressing his face to the window, until a second later, he looks at her, confused, “Where did the moon go?’

She refrains from rolling her eyes and says, “Behind the clouds.”

He frowns at her accusingly, “Why did you make her hide?”

Two pairs of voices ring out through the car.

“James!”

“ _Excuse me?_ “

The _nerve_ of this idiot.

He really needed to grow up.

“The moon isn’t following you around, you dolt. It’s fixed in place. You’re better off following _her_.”

It is a moment before she realises her mistake, and by then, it’s too late. The boy’s eyes begin to swell up, tips of the lips tugging downwards. She’s sure her mother will never forgive her for this.

After a long moment of silence, his mother lets out a short sharp sound of laughter, grinning back at her before returning her eyes to the road.

“You’re such a liar!”

“Lily, _apologise_.”

“For what? I’m telling the truth.”

“Euphemia, I’m so terribly sorry. You know how kids--“

She waves her off, “Rubbish. Lily did me a favour, I never could tell that poor boy the truth. He’s far too soft-hearted.”

“Mum! It’s not true!”

A snort comes from the front, “Whatever helps you sleep at night, dear.”

“Honestly, Lily, you should’ve kept your mouth shut! Apologise this instant!”

Lily folds her arms across her chest just as Euphemia pulls up at their driveway, winking at her, “The next time you come over, mind helping an old woman out? Bust the myth of the Easter Bunny, eh? He’s been running me dry for years.” 

As she goes out the door, waving a smug goodbye to James and tuning out her mother’s scolding, she decides she does like Mrs Potter after all.

* * *

She’d been ten that time. Now, she is seventeen. Visits to the Potter Manor did nothing but increase her love for Mrs Potter, but she can scarcely stay in the same room as her son for more than several minutes before they are cursing each other off. 

Sitting against the glass of the greenhouse on the rooftop of the manor, voices of the party below wafting upwards in the warm July air, she wonders if she can ever come back to this again. Light bulbs adorn the corners of the room, illuminating the plants and her, bright enough to see through the dark. She hears familiar footsteps behind her, and soon, a voice lined with mirth whispers into her ear, laughter evident in it, “‘Scuse me, ‘scuse me, where’d the moon go?’

Lily grins, not needing to turn around to know who it was, “Shut it, you twit, and give me that punch.”

Somehow, by the time she’d turned fifteen, he’d matured and become her best friend. They’d made plans to attend the same university, him promising to fund her education if the money was too much and her vehemently declining. 

Then her father had divorced her mother, and she’d been given two choices.

Move to France with her mother and sister, which she would choose hell over.

Or returning to Ireland with her father.

And—now when it is her last day in this city she calls home—she wishes she could sneak into the Potter’s house until her dad goes away.

James laughs, plopping himself beside her and bumping his shoulder against hers, sending tingles down her arm.

“Your dad is drunk dancing on the table with mine, y’know. You missed quite a sight.”

Snorting, she turns to him, “I’ve seen it a thousand times over. I told you they wouldn’t last an hour.”

“Sirius betted forty-five minutes and that’s even closer. So, technically, he wins.”

“ _I’m_ the one leaving, the money should be _mine_.”

He chuckles, “I told Sirius you’d say that. He says our traumatic past begs to differ.”

“He’s a blithering baboon. And how long were you going to keep believing in the moon and Santa Claus debacle, exactly?”

“You still didn’t have to be so _cruel_.”

“You got on my nerves! And it was Euphemia who asked me to debunk all the myths, really.”

“It was _you_ who gave her the idea!”

“Like you were going to keep putting your teeth under the pillow for a pound and add it to your overflowing piggy bank.”

His smile is quick and sharp, ruining the effect and making her pulse skip a beat for what seems like the thousandth time, “You wound me, Evans.”

And then there’s that surname use. Pulling lightly at her heartstrings every goddamn time. 

She really can’t get over this boy, no matter what she does. Distance would do little to lessen the effects he has on her, especially if he makes true on his promise to call her every day. 

She knows he will, because that’s just who James is. 

It’s no wonder she’s fallen for him so hard. 

But soon she’ll be gone and the chance will be missed. And she really can’t go on without at least knowing how his lips felt on hers. She _knows_ he feels the same way about her. 

They’ve been dancing in circles for as long as she can remember. 

His voice snaps her out of her thoughts, and she looks at him only to catch the hand further from her clutching onto something, “Got something for you. Please don’t trip over its brilliance and die, yeah?”

“Just give it to me so I can inflate your ego for the last time, will you?’

His eyes shoot towards hers and away, smile faltering slightly at the words _‘last time’_ and she winces. But, before she can say anything, he drops a book, coloured red and covered in prints of gold and green leaves, a drawing of a ball with spindly wings and her initials within it at the top right edge.

She’s sure he can hear her heartbeat even over the party songs being blasted below.

 _Bloody_ _hell_ , the things this boy did to her.

“James, honestly, this is so beautiful I can’t possibly—”

A snort comes from beside her, “Lily, this isn’t an addition to your collection of empty notebooks, you have enough.” At her raised eyebrow, he nods at the book, “ _Open_ it.”

At the turn of the page, she’s positive her heart has stopped beating.

She can’t see much, not in this much less of lights, but it’s still wonderful. Sketches cover the entire book, some pages containing several and some containing two. The pages are a slight creamy hue, the pigments standing out against them. 

It’s colourful. It’s aesthetic. It’s _beautiful_.

And it’s so very familiar.

With a jolt, she realises its several sketches of her book-in-progress, names all written underneath each one. As the pages are turned, carefully with gentle movements, characters start taking over—features all exactly what she imagined them to be. There are witty dialogues below some of them, expressions so clear she feels as if they’re _real_.

Lily can feel the textures on the tips of her fingers as they glide over them, knowing James—her dramatic twat and brilliant passionate artist—drew and coloured it all and its _wonderful_.

She’s going to miss that dolt so, _so_ much.

Her eyes start to water and she leans back so that her head isn’t over the drawings, lest she ruin the masterpieces.

“How long did it take you to draw this?” she asks, not wanting, or able, to tear her eyes from them.

“Er, probably around several months now.”

“Several _months_ ? Shut _up_.”

He laughs, and she wonders if she imagined the uncertainty in it, blinking a few times before looking at him.

“I started some sketches for your birthday and then…it just got out of hand, so I decided to let it run its course. It was Remus who suggested turning it into a book though.”

She turned back to the object on her lap, hands lightly skimming over the pages.

“Y’know, I could do with some ego boosting. Really, any day now.”

Laughing, she grins at him, “James, _of course_ I love it. It’s quite possibly the best thing I’ve got in my entire life. Honestly, thank you.”

“Evans, don’t tell me you’re _crying_. Honestly, it wasn’t much.”

“Shut up, yes it was. It _is_. These happy tears tell it all.”

“Really? I thought you hated them so much your eyes would never forgive me.” his voice drips with sarcasm, but she’s sure the fond look in his eyes isn’t a figment of her imagination.

Lily punches his arm, “James, really, I love it.”

“You should. Gave me callouses, they did.”

“You already have them. I thought you claimed they were the fruits of your hard work and all?”

“Oh, yes. Girls love them, apparently.”

She isn’t one to complain or contradict that fact. Especially when she can be considered as one of them.

She’s going to miss this arse, his whirlwind of dark locks, his crooked rectangular glasses and the hazel eyes behind them. Not to mention that spectacular bum she’s eyed far too many times than she ought have done. She’s going to miss the way his lips tip upwards when he smirks and the way he towers over her, too. He used to be shorter than her, but then puberty hit and now she has to crane her neck slightly to meet his eyes. 

Their shoulders brush again as she shifts so that her legs are stretched out before her instead of crossed, and she can’t ignore the tingles the contact sends across her skin once again.

“James?”

He tilted his head to the side, sending a soft smile her way, “Hmn?”

“Why did you draw this?” she demands.

“What?”

Lily points at the drawing pad in her hands, “Why did you draw all these? Why did you put so much effort?”

He glances down at her lap, eyes flicking back and forth from her lap to her eyes, “Er, because you’re my friend and you’re leaving so I wanted to give you a farewell gift?”

She shakes her head, the ghosts and remnants of a smirk forming on her face, “That’s only half of it.”

“Please do elaborate then, Miss Holmes.”

“You should know.”

“Don’t you think I’d tell you if I knew?” he points out.

Lily huffs lightly, “You could’ve gotten me a notebook for me to write in—”

“Like I said before, you have plenty.”

“—or a photo frame, or—”

“Christ, no, that’s too basic.”

“—or maybe a card with a drawing!”

“Who am I, your broke Italian street painter?”

“Seems like you can give reasons why you didn’t do them all but you don’t know why you gave me this.”

James frowns, hand shooting up to ruffle his hair and she’s reminded of the feel of the softness everytime she runs her hands through them. She wonders if she can touch them once more before she goes, just for old time’s sake.

“Why? Do—do you not like it?”

She shakes her head vehemently, “ _No_ , James. I love it. _Really_.”

He doesn’t _get_ it, and she doesn’t know how to make him _understand_. 

“Then what is it?”

“You know when people who really, _really_ like each other give meaningful gifts? Like couples? Or close friends who like each other but they’re both just idiots?”

She’s certain he’s got it now, there’s a telling flush spreading across his cheeks, the side of his frame lighted up by the soft yellow glow behind them. 

James mumbles, loud enough for her to hear, looking away, “Well, _yes_ , but I didn’t—“

“James, I’m leaving in the next two days.”

He lets out a snort, then frowns at her, “Like I needed another reminder.”

Lily sighs, looking down, “So, I’m just imagining things?”

“What—like you said, you’re _leaving_.”

“And?”

James lets out a groan, fingers disappearing into his hair, “There’s—there’s no reason to… _start_ anything up when we probably won’t see...each other again.”

“There’s a thing we call face time, y’know.”

“Wouldn’t be the same.”

“We can make do.”

James lets out a choked laugh, looking as if he was torn between laughing or pulling out his hair, “What, for ten years?”

“ _James.”_

“No, look, believe me I’d love to—“ he gestures between them, red flush on his face spreading even further, “—help on with whatever this is, but Lily, you’re _leaving_ . We’ll definitely keep in touch, but it won’t be the same. And I don’t want it to be some long-distance _anything_ when we can have one proper one in the future. If _this_ fails, that one won’t happen. And I don’t want that.”

“There’ll be a future one?”

He flashes a smile, “I’ll hunt you down.”

“Fine. Then I want a souvenir. For now.”

He splutters, “A _souvenir_ ? Bloody _hell,_ woman—“

“Maybe a snog or two.”

“A peck on the cheek isn’t enough?”

“That’s a _sample._ It’s given to everyone leaving.”

“Why do I feel like I’m some company of stuffed toys?”

A huff escapes her, and she hits his arm, “ _James,”_

Laughing, his fingers wrap around her wrist, tugging at it as his other hand slides behind Lily to pull her snugly to his side before resting his forehead on hers, green eyes meeting hazel ones. 

“This is how they do it, I reckon.”

“Get _on_ wi—“

And—finally, finally, _finally_ —his lips are on hers, soft and warm, heated with every passing second, noses bumping against each other, rough and unrelenting, and she thinks she can detect a hint of champagne he must’ve been drinking earlier but she can barely even _think_ much less note anything else _._ His lips move in a rhythm to match her own, and she really can’t process any comprehensible thoughts, sounds of the party fading away to allow her heartbeat being broadcasted. 

Lily can’t remember when her hand clutched onto the front of his shirt, the fabric fisted into her palm, but she releases her grip to run her hand over his chest, then shoulders, and at last his hair—nails running lightly over his scalp. There’s probably moans and embarrassing pants and gasps for air, but when Lily pulls back, she isn’t quite confident they happened.

But she just kissed James.

 _That,_ she knows, definitely happened.

She can’t believe she’s waited this long for it all to happen, she knows it’ll be plenty of time before this can even happen again, that this will be their last moment together before she leaves. So she savours it, engraving the messy, thick hair and dark hazel eyes, the taste of his lips and their softness, the bumpy, sharp jawline, all into the back of her mind.

She likes him, her gorgeous, talented, dramatic, oblivious, idiotic _arse_. She likes this, kissing and wonderful intimacy.

A breathy laugh escapes her as he grins down at her, “I’m going to miss you so much, you dunce.”

“I’ll miss you more.”

“Not likely.”

“I _will_ —”

She blocks out the words, kissing him again.

They may not have much time, but she’s determined to make use of what is left.

* * *

It’s a busy place and Lily tries to weave through the crowd without messing up her suit. It’s a tedious job and she’s so _not_ here for it.

But it’s just one more day before she can relax on her week off work. A few more meetings and manuscripts before she’s free.

And a few more hours in this thick suit before she can take them off, apparently.

Lily rushes through the open glass doors of the building, spotting the elevator closing, but she can make it.

“Hold the elevator!”

A tanned hand sticks out, stopping the elevators from closing and the metal doors open once more, allowing her to go through. She turns on her heel and tucks a thick file underneath her arm before pressing a floor number.

“Thank you!”

“Anytime.”

The voice is familiar, nagging her and she’s sure she’s heard it before. But she doesn’t turn around, mainly because there isn’t too much space to do so. And when a message pings on her phone from Marlene, it’s all forgotten.

**Marlene:** beers and snacks in my house tonight not taking no for an answer! king’s going to be there too and u’re bringing the chips luv u! Xxx

 **Lily:** Y’know there’s a thing called punctuation, right?

 **Marlene:** never heard of it 

r u coming or not?

 **Lily:** What if I say no?

 **Marlene:** not an answer

try one that starts with y and ends with s

 **Lily:** Yodelers? Didn’t know we were having those at the party.

 **Marlene:** try again bitch

She shakes her head, smiling as her thumb hovers over the screen to form a reply, but she’s so engrossed in the chat to realise that the elevator is almost empty.

“Well, iff it isn’t Lily Evans herself.”

Her thumb stills, smile dropping out of her face almost instantly. She _knows_ that voice. She would know that voice _anywhere_. She’s listened to it well into the night for the first few years when she moved to Ireland.

But it can’t be—

Her head whips around, the tips of her red hair hitting the side of her face, but she ignores it.

Bloody fucking hell, it _is_.

After so many years of scrolling through his instagram pictures, she’s seeing him before her own eyes, within reach.

There used to be a strip of sea between them. Now there’s nothing but a few feet of air separating them.

Tough that certainly hadn’t stopped them back when she first changed locations. They’d kept in touch well into her first two years of university, exchanging prank ideas and stories, until her assignments took up most of her time and workload, his. Bless him, he tried, but she could barely speak to her roommates much less him. 

Not that she doesn’t regret it.

She does, _so_ much.

A year later, the only thing she ever heard from him were occasional texts of memes or rants about their recent Netflix obsession or holiday and birthday wishes. There had been several minutes of instagram stalking thrown in between months, too. She knows he’s found two more best friends, that he’s found a brother in bond, that he’s had exactly four girlfriends, none lasting too long. That he has a cat one year older than her own, his insta feed mostly consisting of them.

That he lives in Cambridge now, and is the CEO of an escape room company, and accepts commissions occasionally.

She knows she’s liked every single one of his photos and left a few comments too, but it had stopped months ago.

She knows she’s been a coward for not contacting him the minute she landed in the city, but she meant to. Really, truly did.

But she had to settle down first, get used to her job.And then the manuscripts wouldn’t stop coming and old friends wouldn’t stop appearing at her doorstep.

She reckons they’re all rubbish excuses, but she can hardly do anything about it.

James has grown. Which shouldn't surprise her because she’s read tons about body anatomy, but it _does_. His shoulders are broader, fingers longer and hair the mess it always was. And if he had been tall when she was seventeen, it pales in comparison to how much he towers over her now.

“You’re...you.”

Another man leaning against the metal wall with shoulder length, commercial-worthy hair and leather jacket, who she happens not to notice until then, lets out a bark of laughter, “You’ve certainly changed, Evans. The bird I knew had a hell of a wit and tongue.”

Lily blinks once. Twice, just to make sure she’s correct. The retort comes quick, “Glad to see you’re still an arse, Sirius.”

He slants a smirk at her, “There she is. ‘Lo Evans.”

With a suggestive eyebrow cocked at his mate, he exits the elevator with a last wave, leaving them alone with nothing but a few files to keep them company.

James is single, if the information on his social media sites are anything to go by. Unless, it’s changed in the past several days since she last checked.

As if this is all even relevant.

“You grew up.”

“Is that your way of telling me that I’m even hotter now?”

Surely, a little flirting wouldn’t do any harm.

“You don’t need me to tell you that.”

She smirks at him as his fingers latch onto his fluffy hair, “Oh, I know. You didn’t do too bad yourself”

Glancing at the tiny screen above the doors which tell her that there’s a few more floors left, she inquires, “What are you doing here?”

“Got an offer for working on a book cover.”

Of course he did. Of _course_ he did, him being the talented git he is.

“James, that’s _amazing_.”

“Right? And it’s a fantasy novel too, which means I can do so much more. The author even asked for a few character profiles and I got to read the book too. Lily it’s amazing.”

He looks so happy, and when he turns to her she encourages him with a bright smile of her own. Her mind drifts to the book in her bedside table drawer, a bit worn out on the edges, but still close to her heart.

She’d abandoned that book ages ago when time refused to be on her side.

The door slides open with a ding and they both step out. 

It’s now or never.

“Are you free tonight? I get off work around six so we could grab dinner and catch up.”

“But it's a weekday.”

“I have a week off work starting tomorrow so I’ll probably sleep in.”

He laughs, a musical sound she’s sorely missed, “In that case, I will love to take you out on dinner.”

“I think I have your insta account so I’ll text you there.”

James smirks at her as if he knows she just added the word ‘think’ to not to sound like a creep. Of course she has his account saved.

“Looking forward to it.” he frowns at the wall behind her, looking at a clock overhead, “Er, I think I missed a few floors and I’m probably late, so I better get going.”

Lily laughs, “Of course you have. Go on then. I’ll see you soon enough.”

James is already at the top of the stairwell, waving at her as he descends. Once he’s out of sight, she opens her chat with Marlene and walks to her space.

**Marlene:** lily

lilyyyy

lilylilylilylily

bitch aNSWER YOUR PHONE

did someone murder you?

well deserved rlly

 **Lily:** Sorry, not sorry, missing tonight. I got me a date with a hot boy.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to be on tumblr at @bluebirdlinginthenest?


End file.
